The Heart is a Lonely Hunter
by clairenbearen
Summary: She left for a reason. S3 finale AU


She missed him. Plain and simple: she missed him.

At least, that's what she said when Coulson stopped by, concern evident on his face, his eyes pleading with her to just tell him what she was feeling and how he could help.

But she didn't. She just told him that she missed Lincoln.

Whenever Fitz or Simmons stopped by, she waved them off. Simmons knew her better than that and often brought back a cup of hot chocolate in Fitz's Grumpy Cat mug. Fitz came and sat in silence, quietly begging her to let him comfort her.

To Mack, she said that Lincoln should never have died for her. And as for May, well…

Daisy tried to avoid her.

Daisy never had a mother to hold her when she was hurting, nor did she have a father figure to protect her from demons like these. And Coulson...he tried, and she appreciated that more than anything. As much as Daisy loved May, however, she couldn't bring herself to look the woman in the eyes.

So when it finally happened, when this broken little girl was cornered by Melinda May, she tried to push her away.

She never expected May to do what she did.

She never expected May to hold her in her arms and cry with her.

She never expected May to treat her as if she was her daughter.

And she never expected the word "mom" to form on her tongue again.

 **X-X-X-X-X**

She left SHIELD two weeks later.

She tried to tell herself that her son or daughter couldn't grow up wondering if his or her mother was going to be killed, wondering if and when she'd walk back onto base.

But despite what she told herself, she often found herself wanting to go back to the man she knew as "Dad," to the woman that she'd once called "Mom," and to the Scottish boy that reminded her too much of a brother she'd never had.

She disappeared to San Francisco, where she bought herself an apartment. She changed her name to Taylor Skye Johnson, hoping to hold on to a part of what she'd left behind. Through the different sunrises and sunsets (they all looked the same to her), she blamed herself for not being able to give her son the life he so much deserved. Her son was not going to know his father, and she hated herself for it.

The days turned into lonely nights, and she began to entertain the idea that maybe Lincoln dying for her was not as bad as she had once thought.

Had he not died in her place, her son would be dead as well.

And though she missed her boyfriend, though she wondered about the life they could have had together, though she so desperately hoped her children would be able to grow up with parents in the way she never did, she was grateful.

She thought she'd run away from it all. That the dreams of what she'd done under the influence of Hive would slowly go away as she distanced herself from SHIELD. That the sound of gunshots would stop ringing in her ears.

She hadn't run away from it; she had run towards it.

She cowered underneath her covers, her hands firmly pressed against her ears, her salty tears dripping from her face and onto her pillow.

She wanted to go home.

 **X-X-X-X-X**

Her son came three months too early.

She'd been scared before, far too many times to count. But this…

Her heart was in her throat, tears pricked at the edges of her eyes, and her lungs couldn't gather enough air as she silently willed her unborn child to stay alive.

She had to breathe deeply, telling herself to calm down so her powers wouldn't bring this entire hospital crashing down on them.

As the nurse stood by her side, trying to calm the scared young mother, Daisy let her mind travel back to the "What ifs?" that she paid far too much attention to. Coulson and May would have been standing beside her – not this stranger – and May's silent strength would have given Daisy the courage she needed, where Coulson's genuine love would have held her together. Where Simmons would have encouraged her, blaming her tears on joy rather than fear. Where Fitz would have stood silently, playing with his left hand, watching and hoping that everything would be alright.

It was like battling to stay above water, trying not to think of them and to think instead of her son.

If only she had opened up to someone back on base. If only she had told Coulson just how broken she felt after Lincoln's death. If only she had just told Simmons – or even Fitz – that she was pregnant, and she was scared out of her _mind_ , because what the hell do you do with a baby in a job like this? If only she'd let Coulson lead her through this. If only, if only, if only.

On July 8, 7:06 PM, her son was born.

The silence was so heavy that it almost broke her.

She was terrified when she didn't hear the cries of her child. She was terrified when she did. She had no idea whether her son was going to live or die, and she knew that no matter what happened, she couldn't protect him from everything.

But when the doctor handed Daisy her son, telling her that he was a safe and healthy boy, she broke down, holding her child in her arms.

"What's his name?" the doctor asked her.

Daisy couldn't look away from her baby long enough to look at the doctor as she answered, "Phillip Davis Johnson."

Daisy saw a nurse nod in her periphery. "And how is that spelled?"

As Daisy spelled out her son's name, another wave of regret washed over her. Coulson should have been there to see his namesake. May should have been there to see things turn out just fine and give Daisy a reassuring squeeze as only May could. Simmons should have been the first to hold Daisy's son, not a random stranger with a medical degree. Fitz should have been there to smile, relief evident in his eyes.

But it wasn't like that, and she couldn't go back.

She couldn't do that to her son.

 **X-X-X-X-X**

Phillip wanted a puppy. Daisy wanted a puppy. Conclusion: the small family got themselves a puppy.

San Francisco had an annual adoption party for the dogs they had found throughout the year. As her three-year-old son tore through the park, searching for the right pup, she surveyed the park.

And she saw him.

He saw her, too, it seemed, because his eyes widened, and he was suddenly running across the park, weaving between dogs and people until he stood in front of her.

"Skye?"

A thousand thoughts ran through her mind, and before she could voice any of them, she saw just how much her leaving had hurt him. So she lifted her mouth in a small smile and said, "It's Daisy, sir."

Coulson blinked, clearly not expecting that answer. "Daisy. Right. Why do I keep forgetting that?"

"Well," she said, cocking her head, keeping her eyes on Phillip, "to be fair, I was gone for four years."

And it was in that moment that Coulson pulled her into a soul-crushing hug, cradling her head as he used to so many years ago.

"I missed you so much, sweetheart," he managed to choke through his tears.

"I know, Dad," she said, her voice thick with tears. It was the first time that she had intentionally used the word "dad" in his presence. She was trying to express to him just how much she loved him. "I missed you, too."

Mini Phil came bounding back to Daisy, tugging on the hem of his mother's shirt. "Mommy, Mommy."

Coulson stepped away from Daisy to look at his namesake. "Your son?" he said, looking back at her.

She nodded, almost unable to hold eye contact with her father.

"Yours and Lincoln's?"

She nodded again.

She saw the question in his eyes. _Is this why you left?_ And now, more than ever, she couldn't trust her voice.

The little boy's chocolate brown eyes widened at this stranger, and he turned to his mother. "Mommy, who this?"

She drew in a shaky breath, composing herself just long enough to answer, "This is your grandpa."

She had seen Coulson cry only once, and that was less than two minutes ago. Now she saw his eyes well up with tears as her son stretched out his arms for Coulson to pick him up.

"Mommy, Mommy," the little boy called out as Coulson and Daisy began walking in the direction of the German shepherd puppies. "Mommyyyyyy."

Daisy raised her eyebrows. "Yes, Phil?"

"What?" Coulson said at the same time mini Phil said, "That's not the puppy I want."

Daisy lifted a finger to tell Coulson to wait just a moment before turning to her son. "Which one?"

The little boy pointed his pudgy index finger to the Labrador retrievers. "The yellow one."

Daisy shrugged as she and Coulson changed course. Upon reaching the pen of the Labrador retrievers, Daisy saw that there was indeed only one yellow lab.

Setting his grandson down, Coulson turned to Daisy, his eyes filled to the brim with tears. His smile reached his eyes. "You named your son Phil?"

She pressed her lips together, nodding her head slowly. She didn't want the day she chose to get a puppy to become emotional, but somehow, it had. "I wanted to name him after the most important man in my life."

He raised an eyebrow. "You didn't name him after Lincoln? You know, the father of your child?"

"No." Thank goodness she hadn't had time to put on makeup today. If she had, well, she would look like an absolute mess. "Lincoln was an important part of my life, yes, but he wasn't the most important person in my life." Another shaky breath. Why couldn't she stop _crying_? "You and May are."

Coulson reached out and squeezed Daisy's shoulder. "You know," he said slowly, as if he was unsure of how to proceed, "We're all here today. If you want to see the others, you can."

She cocked her head. "Are you guys here for work or…?"

Coulson was already shaking his head. "Not exactly. It's been slow for the higher-ranked agents ever since SHIELD came out of the shadows, and well, Fitz really wanted a dog."

It was when she looked in his eyes that she discovered the true reason: We were trying to find you.

So he had kept looking for her, even after all this time.

Daisy's eyes returned to her son struggling to pick up the fifteen-pound puppy, and she laughed. Coulson looked away from the woman who was like a daughter to him and to the little boy that Daisy had said was his non-biological grandson. He smiled and stepped into the pen. "Need some help with that, bud?"

Phillip nodded and Coulson stooped to pick up the young puppy. As they walked out, Phillip looked up to his (non-biological) grandfather and said, "Gampa, what we gonna name him?"

"Well, kiddo, that's up to you," Coulson said, holding the pup in his left hand and leading Phillip out of the puppy pen with his right.

The boy's wide eyes turned to his mother. "Mommy?"

"Your choice, Phillip."

"BAX!" The child cried out, causing the puppy to perk his ears and look around.

Coulson frowned in thought. "I guess that works."

"Hey, Coulson?" Daisy said, bending down to lift up her son.

"Yeah?"

"Can you call everyone together to meet at Baskin Robbins? Phillip's been pining for ice cream for a week now."

Coulson's eyes widened. "Do you know how long it has been," he said softly, "since I had ice cream?" Before she could answer, he answered for her. "Too long."

Knowing Coulson, his "too long" was more like one and a half weeks. Now if May said "too long," well, it was much more believable that it had been literal years since the woman had last eaten the cold dessert.

But she remained stock-still as Coulson texted a person she could only assume to be May to inform them of the changed rendezvous point.

And when they finally arrived, managing to keep her little boy and small puppy in tow, she saw the small party of four awaiting her arrival, and she nearly broke down.

But it was when her eyes swept over to Melinda May that she couldn't hold it together any longer.

When Melinda saw her again for the first time in four years, the older woman leapt out of her chair, knocking it over and crossing the room in seven strides. For a moment, she didn't move, trying to convince herself that it was, in fact, Daisy standing before her. Once she truly believed that it was non-biological daughter standing before her eyes, she reached out and forcefully pulled the young girl into a bone-crushing hug.

"Four years is too damn long," she said, choking through her tears. Daisy never wanted to see Melinda cry ever again. Once was more than enough.

May pulled away, wiping the rapidly falling tears from Daisy's cheeks. May's own tears had worn paths that streaked down her face. "Why did you leave us?"

Her reasoning was pathetic. Even she had known it. She had known it was the better option to stay at SHIELD, where her son could be born into a loving family. She had known that it was the better option when the pain of leaving her family had cut deeper than any bullet wound she'd ever had.

"I should have stayed," the young woman managed through her tears. She shook her head, the emotions of the day taking over. "I should have stayed."

It wasn't Coulson who reached her first to wrap her in his arms. It wasn't Jemma. It wasn't even Mack.

It was Fitz.

He didn't say anything. She honestly didn't believe any of them had the words to express any of the thoughts running through their heads. As she sobbed into her best friend's arms, she came to a sudden conclusion:

She was coming back. Well…just so long as they let her.

And knowing Coulson, whether or not he was still the director, he was going to make sure she came back.

"Mama, why you crying?"

Daisy pulled away from Fitz to look her child in the eyes. Bending down to his level, she said, "I'm just happy, Phil."

"I gotta get used to that," she heard Coulson mutter behind her.

She snickered as Mack responded with, "Yeah. Tell me about it."

Mini Phil cocked his head and furrowed his brow. "I thought you only cried when you're sad."

Daisy lightly brushed her son's dark brown hair away from his eyes. "No," she said softly, gently squeezing his biceps. "No, you can cry when you're happy, when you're mad, when you're sad. You can cry for any reason."

"Oh." The little boy stood in silence for a moment. "Can I have my ice cream now?"

 _Of course_ Coulson stepped in at that moment in time, easily lifting his grandson and walking to the counter. "Sure thing, son. What flavor do you want?"

As she watched Coulson and May bicker over how many scoops little Phil was allowed to have (May was correct; as much as she loved Coulson, she could not let her son eat more than his limit of one scoop) and Fitzsimmons order the same exact thing (two scoops of pistachio ice cream in a cup) and Mack and Elena order their respective favorites, she couldn't understand why she had left in the first place.

She wasn't leaving again.


End file.
